Beauty and the Geek
by whitetiger91
Summary: Daphne and Blaise. What a perfect couple, what a perfect boy; handsome, wealthy, a prince charming. What more could Daphne want? A date with him to the Yule Ball? Well, leave it to her best friend to help her get with her prince. Written for the Fairytale Challenge on the DAII forum.
1. Chapter 1

**Beauty and the Geek**

 _ **A/N: This three-part fic was first, and foremost, written for Ned (aka isaacswolfsbane); one of her favourite pairings being Theodore Nott/ Daphne Greengrass, and since I can't seem to write Dramione, this was the result :) I've also used the Challenge Your Versatility and Fairytales Challenge on the Diagon Alley II forum.**_

 _ **Prompts used:**_

 _ **Beauty and the Beast: Write about seeing beyond appearances.**_

 _ **Optional prompts: Glamour, Rhinestone.**_

 _ **Word count: 3885**_

 _ **I must give credit where credit is due, by acknowledging my inspirations and sources. Firstly, as you no doubt have figured out by now, I am not JK Rowling, and thus do not own any themes or characters you recognise. Secondly, the matching flower to eye idea was inspired by Glee, where Rachel advises Finn to get a corsage that matches Quinn's eyes for prom. That scene was too cute not to include, in a way, and is amazing advice for any guys reading this who are looking to impress their dates *wink wink*. For any fashionistas out there who may want to have a better idea, Daphne's dress is also inspired a little by Hannah's Homecoming look in Pretty Little Liars**_ — _ **at least the top half, hair and accessories. Lastly, the title is in no way connected to any movies or tv shows bearing the same name, as really, it was the only fitting, punny title; that, or I could have used the title of one of my favourite Disney songs, 'A Tale as Old as Time,' but didn't want to be accused of plagiarism :)**_

* * *

 **Part One**

"You could always go with Crabbe. I'm sure he'd be keen to get his hands a hold of you. Any girl, really."

"Shut up."

Daphne rolled her eyes as Pansy snickered, not for the first time that day feeling a little bit sorry for Tracey. Pansy had spent the last few hours trying to convince the brunette that _someone_ would ask her to the ball, only drawing breath long enough to stare at Draco Malfoy and his friends as they practiced Quidditch. It was getting old listening to Pansy act like an expert on love, simply because Malfoy was foolish enough to agree to be her partner for the evening.

Tucking her legs underneath the bench, she allowed her mind to wander to her own date for the Yule Ball—or lack thereof. None of the Quidditch players below were available; many of the older boys would be attending with girls their age. It wasn't surprising, either—she could see their muscles flexing beneath their uniforms, the hours of practicing on the pitch whilst everyone else focused on the Tournament finally paying off. She had considered trying for Malfoy—as risky as it was with Pansy digging her claws into him all the time—but ever since he had been turned into a ferret by Professor Moody, he had been more touchy than ever before.

Her eyes scanned the pitch and trailed up to the stands, finally landing on the ideal candidate. Blaise Zabini was stretched out across a bench, chiselled chin resting on his palm as he watched the game. Every now and then he would shout out encouragement or clap, or, more often, would shake his head in disgust as the chasers fumbled with the ball. As sunlight streamed into the stands, it would catch his brown eyes and make the gold flecks within them dance. His smooth skin shone in the light, and as he began laughing at Montague's latest slip-up, he revealed even, white teeth. He was perfect—a prince charming she wanted on her arm when she entered the Great Hall on Saturday night.

By comparison, Theodore Nott, who sat in the row behind Blaise with his nose in a book, looked like a ghost. His skin was too pale, even by Slytherin standards, and his dark hair flopped down in front of his face, hiding green eyes.

"I know who Daphne wants to go with," Pansy cooed, interrupting her thoughts.

Daphne tore her gaze away from the boys as Pansy nudged her. Her cheeks grew warm, making it difficult to deny that she had been caught staring.

"Ooooh, do you have a crush?" Millicent chortled.

She was not to be outdone by Tracey, however, who stood up on the bench and shouted, "Daphne's in love!"

Narrowing her eyes, Daphne tugged on Tracey's robe sleeve, begging her to sit down. Her cheeks were on fire now, made only worse as she glanced towards Blaise and saw him watching them, a smirk on his face.

"Sit. Down. Now," she hissed.

Sticking out her tongue, Tracey finally relented and plopped back down laughing. "Lighten up."

Daphne crossed her arms. Really, how immature could they be? Could they not stop acting like first years for one day?

Thankfully, Pansy had calmed down from laughing, traces of tears still in her eyes, but a bored look on her face. Standing up and fetching up her bag, she ordered the girls to leave. "Come on, the boys have finished. Let's get back to the castle."

Daphne didn't need telling twice; quickly, she grabbed up her own bag and followed her group out of the stands. Before she left, however, she took once last glance at Blaise. To her immense relief, his eyes were back on the pitch, waiting as the team began packing away the equipment.

"Don't worry, I'll arrange it for you." Daphne jumped as Pansy sidled up to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. With a wink, her friend nodded to where the boys sat. "Good choice by the way. He's certainly not my type, but you could do worse. Much worse."

Daphne smiled, not bothered in the least by Pansy's last comment. Butterflies had erupted in her stomach as she thought of the prospect of her and Blaise together. Blaise and Daphne. Daphne and Blaise. If Pansy could manage to arrange Blaise to be Daphne's date, she would be the envy of the female—and possibly male—population of Hogwarts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

Daphne peered into the mirror, smoothing down her gown for the seventeenth time. The dress fit perfectly, the bodice hugging her waist, thin, capped sleeves covering her shoulders in a way that she looked modest enough for a lady, yet stylish enough for a young witch. The skirt flowed down from the waist, touching the silver heels on her feet. Biting her lip, she twisted around, watching as the rhinestone necklace she wore glittered under the light of the little candles Pansy had hovering around the mirror. She had wished she had worn real diamonds, yet it was not what concerned her most. What if the turquoise dress she wore didn't match Blaise's suit? She had picked it as a colour that would not wash out her blonde hair, but now was not so sure it was the right choice.

"Do you think I should wear my hair down?" she asked, turning to the girls.

Tracey shook her head and pushed her away from the mirror, trying to fix the shoulder strap on her burnt-orange dress robes.

"You look fine," Pansy said, rolling her eyes at Tracey. Taking out her wand, she helped the girl with her strap before turning to Daphne with a mischievous smile. "I bet your date is going to be real appreciative of it," she said, winking.

Daphne turned away, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. She really should get that under control. She wasn't annoyed at Pansy's suggestive comment, however, for it was because of the brunette that Daphne had the date of her dreams. Pansy had come through with her promise, announcing at breakfast the morning before that "Daphne shall go to the ball!" When pressed for how she had managed to arrange it, Pansy had simply shrugged her shoulders, told her, "the boy was easy enough to find, and pleasantly surprised," before steering the conversation back to talk of dress robes and Draco.

"Come on, we're late." Clipping the lid onto the tube of pink lipstick she held, Pansy faced the group. "Ready?"

"But I thought you wanted us to make the boys wait?" Millicent protested, finally able to jam her left foot into a purple shoe.

Pansy rolled her eyes and walked over to Daphne, linking arms. With a tug, she pulled her out of the room, not leaving anymore time for adjustments or second-guesses.

Daphne felt the butterflies begin to take over her stomach, as they had for the last few days. Her palms felt a little clammy, and it took all of her strength to keep her head up and remained poised. She stared straight ahead as they descended the staircase into the Slytherin common room, looking up only once they had reached level ground and she could be sure she wouldn't stumble or fall.

Her eyes lit up as she spotted Blaise on one of the emerald leather lounges. His dress robes made him appear older, in a way, a teal tie hanging loosely around his neck. His hair was carelessly brushed back. In his lapel pocket, a silver tiger lily hung loosely, the dark green stem complementing the look. Daphne felt her heart pound in excitement; he was perfect. Beside him, Theodore sat upright, similar black robes accented with aquamarine, and Draco stood in front of Crabbe and Goyle, lecturing to them about who knew what.

"Drakie! You look dashing!" Pansy released her grip on Daphne's arm and skipped over to Draco to latch onto him instead.

"Uh, you too," Draco said, eyeing her frilly, pink robes. Then, composing himself, he smiled and said, "Shall we go, then?"

Pansy nodded eagerly and Draco guided her out the door, followed closely behind by Crabbe and Goyle—or rather, two monkeys in a suit. The amusing thought was almost enough to distract her from her nerves, until she realised that she stood alone, Millicent and Tracey having become distracted by the seventh year boys who had just arrived. Licking her lips, she peered at Blaise through her thick lashes, wondering if she should go up to him, or wait for him to take her arm.

The butterflies in her stomach whirred around furiously as Blaise eventually stood up, raking a hand through his locks. She brushed her hands against the back of her dress, hoping that they wouldn't be sweaty when Blaise took them. She needn't have worried, however, for Blaise passed her with no more than a quick smile, and began to head out the door.

Ok, perhaps she was being too old-fashioned. Holding hands was more a Malfoy/ Parkinson type of thing; Blaise was casual and cool. Calming herself, she took a step forward, ready to join her date.

"You look nice."

Pausing, she turned her head back to the lounge. Theodore had stood up and was now standing in front of her, holding out a white lily with a light blue ribbon tied around it. She stared at it, not comprehending.

"Here, I got this for you," Theodore said, closing the gap between them. Then, seeing that she had not moved, took her hand and placed it on her palm. "It's ok, you don't have to actually wear it. Pansy only suggested I get one; she said your favourite colour was pink, but this one matches your eyes." Closing her palm around it, he took a step back.

"Pansy—what?" Daphne stared at her hand, still not sure why it was Theodore that stood in front of her and not Blaise. Pansy had assured her she would sort out her date; she had been there when Daphne was staring at—oh.

"Well, should we go or…?" Theodore trailed off, taring at her expectantly.

No, no, no. It should be Blaise watching her! Why was this happening? No, she had to sort it out; she had to tell Theodore that this was just a mistake. She couldn't very well show up at a dance boasting glitz and glamour with a geek.

Looking back to Theodore's face and meeting his eyes, her explanation died on her lips. They appeared sad, almost defeated, as though he was expecting her to reject him. Just great.

"Alright," she whispered, allowing him to take her arm and escort her to the Great Hall.

This was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

Daphne sighed as her eyes scanned the Great Hall, not able to appreciate the twinkling fairy-lights. Her fingers drummed against the crisp, white table clothe, not in tune to the pumping music that was giving her a headache. No one else seemed to mind, though; out in the middle of the polished floor, students were pressed against each other, moving in time to the beat. Their sweaty faces were disguised with smiles, at least those whose lips were not latched onto their partner's. Even Granger appeared to be having fun as Viktor Krum twirled her around and around.

"Would you like another drink?" Theodore asked, picking up a crystal goblet. He hadn't left the table, dutifully waiting behind whilst the rest of their group enjoyed themselves.

Daphne shook her head and Theodore sat back in his seat, turning his attention back to the dance floor. He had offered to dance with Daphne, yet she had quickly refused. She wasn't that great of a dancer herself, but she highly doubted Theodore was any better. He was far too reserved to know anything about dancing and no doubt probably moved as well as a Hippogriff wearing clogs. She could deal with having him as a date—especially as he didn't bother with idle conversation—so long as she didn't have to embarrass herself further by being seen with him on the dance floor. Besides, her heart just wasn't in it.

Reluctantly, her eyes had wandered to wear Blaise swayed, a wide grin on his face. Both Parvati and Padma Patil were with him, a twin on each arm. Not once had he looked her way, too pre-occupied with feeling the fabric of each girls' dress robes within a metre of him.

"Draco, stop staring!"

Daphne turned to the sound of the screeching, not surprised to see a red-faced Pansy glaring at Draco. Her fingers were on the blond's chin, trying to turn it away from the other girls on the dance floor. Draco raised an eyebrow, his grey eyes slightly unfocused, as he realised that Pansy was talking to him. The girl's heel clicked against the marble floor as she stomped her foot, eyes flashing. Poor boy, Daphne almost felt sorry for him; after four years, he still hadn't gotten used to Pansy's jealous nature.

Her lips twisted into a smile, and she had to look away before completely laughing at his predicament. Draco was a pain—no one, not even a Slytherin, would argue against that—but it didn't mean she should allow anyone to see she thought that. She was startled, therefore, when Theodore chuckled quietly, his eyes on the arguing couple.

"What's funny?"

Theodore glanced at her, eyebrows raised. "Malfoy, the 'love expert'. You'd think for someone who parades around believing he is God's gift to women, he'd know how to handle Pansy by now. Prat."

Daphne's mouth popped open and she stared at Theodore wide-eyed.

"What, don't you agree?"

"No, it's just… Well, I'm surprised you said that, that's all."

Theodore appraised her, shaking his head slowly. "It doesn't hurt to be honest, you know? People around here care too much about what others think, that they're too scared to say the truth, or to do what they want, even if it means it will spare someone from future embarrassment." His eyes bore into hers and she found she couldn't look away.

She knew that Theodore was talking about Draco's tendency to over-exaggerate details, thus losing a lot of his dignity in the eyes of his peers, yet couldn't help think there was more to his words. Could he tell that she didn't want to be there with him? She had been polite enough; after all, she could've followed her instincts and chased after Blaise when they left the common room. No, it was Theodore; he wasn't that insightful or deep.

Shifting in her seat, she tore her eyes away from his steady gaze. She withdrew her hands to her lap, twisting them together. Theodore shrugged, oblivious to her discomfort, and resumed looking around the room.

"Oh Blaise, you 'ave shown me zee best time!"

Daphne looked up as Blaise came to sit at their table, an older Beuxbaton student giggling by his side. Blaise's face was flushed yet it did not stop him from staring into the blonde's vibrant blue eyes. The girl giggled again, trailing a finger up his arm before realising that they were not alone.

"Blaise, introduce me to your friends," she said, looking expectantly at Blaise.

"Uh, right, Gis—Gloria, this is Daphne and Theodore," Blaise complied, nodding at the two Slytherins.

"'Ow do you do?" Gloria asked, holding out her hand for Theodore to kiss. Theodore barely glanced at it as he pressed a swift kiss on her knuckles and let it go.

The girl pursed her lips together, eyes slightly narrowed. She settled herself on top of Blaise's knees, glaring at the boy. Theodore took no notice as he looked to Daphne, a hint of a smirk on his lips. With a huff, the girl tilted her head towards Blaise and planted a kiss on his full lips. The butterflies in Daphne's stomach made themselves known, flipping around wildly. Shouldn't they have been killed by now, destroyed by the falling pieces of her broken heart? In fact, why was her heart still beating rapidly, unperturbed by the sight before her?

Clearing his throat, Theodore stood up. Stretching out his hand, he offered it to Daphne, forcing her to look away from the intertwined couple. "Care for a dance, now?"

"You haven't danced yet?" the French asked, breaking away from the kiss with a laugh. "Who doesn't dance at a ball?"

Gritting her teeth, Daphne took Theodore's hand, allowing her chair to scrape back as she stood. "Apparently not you," she replied with a tight smile, watching in satisfaction as the French girl's cheeks flamed.

Theodore chuckled as he led her out onto the floor.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. I just didn't realise how quick you were with your words," Theodore said, spinning her around so he could grasp her waist.

Daphne blushed, suddenly feeling the need to defend her words. Trying not to focus on how close Theodore's face was, she quietly replied, "Well, snogging really isn't the same as dancing."

Theodore took her left hand and placed it over his shoulder, clutching her right. Her traitorous cheeks burned even more, and she focused her gaze on the Theodore's shoes as they stepped back and forth in time to the slow beat. His hand didn't wander any lower than her hips, fitting in snugly, as though they were two puzzle pieces.

"Do you waltz?" he asked, saving her from the thought.

Peering up at him, she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "I've had some practice, but I'm not that good," she admitted.

Instead of laughing at her, or worse, sneering, for not being able to as most girls their age—at least in their Pureblood circle—did, he nodded understandingly. "Don't worry, I'll lead."

Daphne blinked in surprise as Theodore used his hands to guide her body, moving slowly and counting out a rhythm with his feet. Once or twice, she was certain her heel would land on his toes, yet he seemed to be in touch with her movements and avoided them with ease.

"How did you get so good at this?" she asked after Theodore spun them around together for the sixth time.

Theodore didn't break his steady gaze, his eyes staring at her face rather than at his feet. When she dared look up for a moment, feeling confident enough she now had the idea, she saw something undetectable beneath their forest-green depths. His lips were pressed together and the rest of his face remained blank.

Great, just when she was beginning to bare his company, he clammed up. That was what happened when one preferred books for company to humans. It was probably how he knew how to dance, and not how to have a decent conversation. Sighing, she began to pull away; Blaise had moved on from the table and the blonde Beauxbatons girl was no-where in sight. She could go back now; there was no need to pretend anymore.

Theodore's grip tightened and he slowed down their movements to a sway. "My mother taught me how to dance."

Daphne opened her mouth and closed it again. It was a well-known fact that Mrs Nott had been killed long before Theodore had enrolled at Hogwarts—exactly how, no one would say. She didn't think Theodore had even known her, let alone thought about her.

As if guessing her thoughts, Theodore smiled sadly. "It's ok, I don't mind talking about her. She was a kind woman, and though I didn't know her long, she was able to show me a few important things about life."

Daphne nodded, unable to look away. "I've never heard you mention her before."

"That's because no one has ever asked," he replied simply.

Daphne bit her lip, unsure what to say. Thankfully, Theodore took the chance to spin her around, momentarily sparing her from the task. By the time she was able to rest her hand back on his shoulder, she was able to think of something.

"Do you miss her?" At least she thought she was. She winced at the way it sounded.

Theodore continued gazing at her, his movements yet to miss a beat. "Sometimes. I think what I miss most about her is the way she made my father feel—I don't think I've seen him smile, let alone laugh, since she died."

"Oh."

Why was he being so open, and with her? This wasn't the quiet, reserved Theodore Nott she knew.

Realising that she hadn't said anything for a minute, she hastily asked, "What was she like?" and immediately regretted it. Stupid Daphne—now who was the one who didn't have any social clue?

Theodore's smile grew slightly as he answered, "I think it was her good nature. People would often think she was too quiet, possibly even snobby. What they wouldn't see was that she was kind to everyone, using her ears to listen rather than her eyes to judge. She believed people always had some good in them, no matter how deep it may have been buried."

Daphne ducked her head, and wouldn't have been surprised if her cheeks were now the colour of Ronald Weasley's hair. She had underestimated Theodore; he was more perceptive than anyone gave him credit for.

The song drew to a stop and the music was switched up to a fast-paced rock by The Weird Sisters. Other students who weren't puffed out already took to the floor once more, jostling them as they jumped up and down to the song.

Theodore let go of her hand and she allowed it to fall to her side. Her head had begun pounding and the butterflies had reached their limit, transforming into a swarm of bees ready to attack. Blaise came to join them, his white shirt wet, stained with what looked suspiciously like the pumpkin juice the school house-elves were serving. Why did she feel so disappointed? Shouldn't she be happy that Blaise was here?

His eyes somewhat unfocused, Blaise turned to her with a grin. "Wanna dance, Daph?"

Of course she did. Absolutely. Yes. Daphne looked to Theodore, who had already turned his head and began to stride off towards the tables. The bees stung her chest, over and over. Say yes, say yes. Closing her eyes, the bees continuing to haunt her, she made a decision she hoped she wouldn't regret. "Sorry, Blaise, but I think I want to dance with my date."

Lifting up her dress, she half-ran after Theodore, leaving Blaise to shrug and flirt with the young Ravenclaw passing his way.

"Theodore!"

The tall boy turned around, craning his neck until he spotted her pushing through the crowd. His arms were folded, yet he waited for her to get to him.

"Um, did you want to dance?"

The boy raised his eyebrows. "I do, but do you?"

The bees ceased their taunts and returned to butterflies as Daphne gripped Theodore's hand, pulling him towards her. "Of course," she said, smiling.

Theodore tilted his head, but allowed her to usher him back towards the other dancers. Clasping his other hand, Daphne pushed their arms back and forth and moved her hips. She knew she probably looked ridiculous, yet she couldn't seem to bring herself to care. Theodore smirked at her, going along with it.

It was going to be a long night—a long, blissful night with her prince charming.


End file.
